I am searching for the imperial crown,
my body injured by the earthly pain,
the voice and scent of mankind,
I am reborn in the spiral of earthly evolution,
sip of divine scents,
the seeds of my unique being sprout,
kiss me and die,
vanished from life.

A dozen whitened lilies,
Choked in renaissance jewels,

Each cut gripping the stalks
and tugging the leather lips.

They stain like daffodils.

And though grand,
Their speckled folds ooze death itself,
Like a beggar with heightened pride.

The string of scarlet tenses
and the stalks smothered,
each head refused nourishment,

They wither.

I grew up w/ women drumming
into my head what a 'real man'                                                   is
w/ profoundly conflicting messages:
men are nurturing protectors &                                            providers
but also berserk barbarians who just
**** **** **** w/ extreme prejudice.
men are feted like warrior-kings but
act like petulant overgrown children;
responsible for making society                                             function
while playing like naughty children.

toys, sports, strong drink & pretty                                         girls...
no wonder people worship god.
god is an adult. except when it's a                                  baby-king,
which again is a weird concept                                   although
in India they worship little girls as
cosmic queens; weirder still in light
of the ancient custom of child                                         marriage.

I love u w/ every dream in my heart...
why are daffodils everywhere in the                                book?

Narcissus poeticus (poet's daffodil,
poet's narcissus, nargis, pheasant's eye,
findern flower, and pinkster lily)
was one of the first daffodils to be                                     cultivated,
and is frequently identified as the
narcissus of ancient times (although
Narcissus tazetta and Narcissus                                     jonquilla
have also been considered as                                                possibilities).­

It is also often associated with the                                     Greek
legend of Narcissus. It is the type                                                species
of the genus Narcissus and is widely
naturalized in North America.

daffodils are one of my favorite things
they spring up from the earth
often unannounced
in places you never knew they were
empty lots, parks, and such

they arrive
reach for the sun like an old friend
follow the light from sun up to set
brighten the day of passersby
if only for a short time
soon they’ll hide
buried in the ground
don’t fret
they'll always be back in March

"For the moment, she soaks up all that she can."

Fragile, unaligned, bristling flesh.
Thoughts that stutter and repeat, breaking upon release
Fully human. Organic. Vegetative.
I touch grass and uncut daffodils,
And feel no fear at expression. No fear of wrong turns.
Merely a desire to grow towards the sun -
A sun gaining warmth with each day.

Golden honeyed petals in a riverbank of lavender,
dreading the moment the daffodils no longer dance
swept off their feet, prisoners to a purple world
this is how flowers die

.
pale bright yellow infringes
just beneath shadowed drift
of lingering snow

as if a nascent smoldering flickers
breathlessly gasping for light
penetrating cracks on whiter opaque

wondrously drawn skywards
'neath an unseen sky so far away
revealing an obscure warmth
in blossoming will

tomorrows vanguard
unfolding beneath a blanket
that only grows deeper
over the long winter night 

a darkest silence borne
beyond frozen time layered depths

in the magic of a moment,
the clouds let the wind stir
the fickle sun's yellow paint brush

and like an burgeoning embryo,
a reclusive hope bursts forth
metamorphosis within
an all encasing hidden evolution

the wind whispers an audible sigh;
a sole daffodil peeks out
from enveloping darkness,

  casting out the memory
               a beautiful light hidden within


                         words in the wind

        ... February 28th, 2017 and counting

Felt the desire to hug someone,
and send your love so far,
but know deep down
*you may never get the chance to?